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THE STORY OF 
THE OTHER WISE MAN 


HENRY VAN DYKE 




















































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I saw him moving among the 
throngs of men in populous Egypt 


The Story of 

THE OTHER WISE MAN 


By 

Henry van Dyke 

i i 

Author of “ The Mansion” “ The Lost Boy” 
“The Child Christ in Art” Etc. 


With Many Drawings 
in Color and Line by 
J. R. FLANAGAN 



The Story of the Other Wise Man 


Copyright, 1895, 1899, 1907, 1920, by Harper & Brothers 
Printed in the United States of America 
Published May, 1920 


E-u 

0 sL 

" -yi/A <• 

S£P ! 1 1920 
-■< v 
‘ 

©CI.A604012 


CONTENTS 

Page 

Preface xi 

The Sign in the Sky 3 

By the Waters of Babylon 27 

For the Sake of a Little Child 43 

In the Hidden Way of Sorrow 57 

A Pearl of Great Price 65 



ILLUSTRATIONS 




I saw him moving among the throngs of 

men in populous Egypt .... . . . Frontispiece 


“Hear me, then, my father and my friends, 
while I tell you of the new light and 

truth” Facing p. 10 


The dim starlight revealed the form of a 

man lying across the road “ 32 

“ I am all alone in this place, and I am waiting 
to give this jewel to the prudent captain 
who will leave me in peace” “ 52 


“The King whom you are seeking is not to 
be found in a palace, nor among the rich 
and powerful” “58 

In all this populous and intricate world of 
anguish, though he found none to wor- 
ship, he found many to help “ 60 

“Pilate has sent him to the cross because he 

said that he was the ‘King of the Jews’” “ 66 


As she bent over him, fearing that he was 
dead, there came a voice through the 
twilight, very small and still, like music 
sounding from a distance 



j • 


Who seeks for heaven alone to save his soul. 
May keep the path, but will not reach the goal ; 
While he who walks in love may wander far. 

Yet God will bring him where the blessed are. 


PREFACE 


It is now some years since this little story 
was set afloat on the sea of books. It is not a 
man-of-war, nor even a high-sided merchant- 
man; only a small, peaceful sailing-vessel. 
Yet it has had rather an adventurous voyage. 
Twice it has fallen into the hands of pirates. 
The tides have carried it to far countries. It 
has been passed through the translator’s port 
of entry into German, French, Armenian, 
Turkish, and perhaps some other foreign re- 
gions. Once I caught sight of it flying the 
outlandish flag of a brand-new phonetic lan- 
guage along the coasts of France; and once it 
was claimed by a dealer in antiquities as a long- 
lost legend of the Orient. Best of all, it has 
slipped quietly into many a far-away harbor 
that I have never seen, and found a kindly wel- 
come, and brought back messages of good cheer 
from unknown friends. 




Xll 


PREFACE 


Now it has turned home to be new-rigged and 
fitted for further voyaging. Before it is sent out 
again I have been asked to tell where the story 
came from and what it means. 

I do not know where it came from — out of 
the air, perhaps. One thing is certain, it is not 
written in any other book, nor is it to be found 
among the ancient lore of the East. And yet I 
have never felt as if it were my own. It was a 
gift. It was sent to me; and it seemed as if I 
knew the Giver, though His name was not 
spoken. 

The year had been full of sickness and sor- 
row. Every day brought trouble. Every night 
was tormented with pain. They are very long 
— those nights when one lies awake, and hears 
the laboring heart pumping wearily at its task, 
and watches for the morning, not knowing 
whether it will ever dawn. They are not nights 
of fear; for the thought of death grows strange- 
ly familiar when you have lived with it for a 
year. Besides, after a time you come to feel 
like a soldier who has been long standing 
still under fire ; any change would be a 
relief. But they are lonely nights; they are 






N 




PREFACE xv 

very heavy nights. And their heaviest burden 
is this: 

You must face the thought that your work 
in the world may be almost ended, but you 
know that it is not nearly finished. 

You have not solved the problems that per- 
plexed you. You have not reached the goal 
that you aimed at. You have not accomplished 
the great task that you set for yourself. You 
are still on the way; and perhaps your journey 
must end now, — nowhere, — in the dark. 

Well, it was in one of these long lonely 
nights that this story came to me. I had studied 
and loved the curious tales of the Three Wise 
Men of the East as they are told in the “Golden 
Legend” of Jacobus de Voragine and other 
medieval books. But of the Fourth Wise Man 
I had never heard until that night. Then I 
saw him distinctly, moving through the shad- 
ows in a little circle of light. His countenance 
was as clear as the memory of my father’s face 
as I saw it for the last time a few months before. 
The narrative of his journey ings and trials and 
disappointments ran without a break. Even 
certain sentences came to me complete and 






xvi 


PREFACE 


unforgetable, clear-cut like a cameo. All that 
I had to do was to follow Artaban, step by step, 
as the tale went on, from the beginning to the 
end of his pilgrimage. 

Perhaps this may explain some things in 
the story. I have been asked many times why 
I made the Fourth Wise Man tell a lie, in the 
cottage at Bethlehem, to save the little child’s 


life. 


I did not make him tell a lie. 

What Artaban said to the soldiers he said 
for himself, because he could not help it. 

Is a lie ever justifiable? Perhaps not. But 
may it not sometimes seem inevitable? 

And if it were a sin, might not a man con- 
fess it, and be pardoned for it more easily than 
for the greater sin of spiritual selfishness, or 
indifference, or the betrayal of innocent blood? 
That is what I saw Artaban do. That is what I 
heard him say. All through his life he was try- 
ing to do the best that he could. It was not per- 
fect. But there are some kinds of failure that 
are better than success. 

Though the story of the Fourth Wise Man 
ime to me suddenly and without labor, there 



\ 


PREFACE 


xvii 


was a great deal of study and toil to be done 
before it could be written down. An idea 
arrives without effort; a form can only be 
wrought out by patient labor. If your story is 
worth telling, you ought to love it enough to 
be willing to work over it until it is true — true 
not only to the ideal, but true also to the real. 
The light is a gift ; but the local color can only 
be seen by one who looks for it long and steadily. 
Artaban went with me while I toiled through a 
score of volumes of ancient history and travel. 
I saw his figure while I journeyed on the motion- 
less sea of the desert and in the strange cities 
of the East. 

And now that his story is told, what does it 
mean? 

How can I tell? What does life mean? If 
the meaning could be put into a sentence 
there would be no need of telling the story. 


Henry van Dyke. 


( 

You know the story of the Three Wise Men 
of the East, and how they traveled from far 
away to offer their gifts at the manger-cradle 
in Bethlehem. But have you ever heard the 
story of the Other Wise Man, who also saw the 
star in its rising, and set out to follow it, yet 
did not arrive with his brethren in the pres- 
ence of the young child Jesus? Of the great 
desire of this fourth pilgrim, and how it was 
denied, yet accomplished in the denial; of his 
many wanderings and the probations of his 
soul; of the long way of his seeking, and the 
strange way of his finding, the One whom he 
sought — I would tell the tale as I have heard 
fragments of it in the Hall of Dreams, in the 
palace of the Heart of Man. 


9 




THE SIGN IN THE SKY 




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X 
















THE STORY OF THE 
OTHER WISE MAN 


THE SIGN IN THE SKY 

In the days when Augustus Caesar was master 
of many kings and Herod reigned in Jerusalem, 
there lived in the city of Ecbatana, among the 
mountains of Persia, a certain man named 
Artaban, the Median. His house stood close 
to the outermost of the seven walls which en- 
circled the royal treasury. From his roof he 
could look over the rising battlements of black 
and white and crimson and blue and red and 
silver and gold, to the hill where the summer 
palace of the Parthian emperors glittered like 
a jewel in a sevenfold crown. 

Around the dwelling of Artaban spread a 
fair garden, a tangle of flowers and fruit trees, 


4 


THE SIGN IN THE SKY 


watered by a score of streams descending from 
the slopes of Mount Orontes, and made musical 
by innumerable birds. But all color was lost 
in the soft and odorous darkness of the late 
September night, and all sounds were hushed 
in the deep charm of its silence, save the plash- 
ing of the water, like a voice half sobbing and 
half laughing under the shadows. High above 
the trees a dim glow of light shone through the 
curtained arches of the upper chamber, where 
the master of the house was holding council 
with his friends. 

He stood by the doorway to greet his guests — 
a tall, dark man of about forty years, with 
brilliant eyes set near together under his broad 
brow, and firm lines graven around his fine, 
thin lips; the brow of a dreamer and the 
mouth of a soldier, a man of sensitive feeling 
but inflexible will — one of those who, in what- 
ever age they may live, are born for inward 
conflict and a life of quest. 

His robe was of pure white wool, thrown 
over a tunic of silk; and a white pointed cap, 
with long lapels at the sides, rested on his 
flowing black hair. It >vas the dress of the 



¥ 












THE SIGN IN THE SKY 


ancient priesthood of the Magi, called the 
fir e- worshiper s . 

“Welcome!” he said, in his low, pleasant 
voice, as one after another entered the room — 
“welcome, Abdus; peace be with you, Rho- 
daspes and Tigranes, and with you my father, 
Abgarus. You are all welcome, and this house 
grows bright with the joy of your presence.” 

There were nine of the men, differing widely 
in age, but alike in the richness of their dress 
of many-colored silks, and in the massive 
golden collars around their necks, mark- 
ing them as Parthian nobles, and the 
winged circles of gold resting upon their 
breasts, the sign of the followers of 
Zoroaster. 

They took their places around a small 
black altar at the end of the room, where 
a tiny flame was burning. Artaban, 
standing beside it, and waving a barsom 
of thin tamarisk branches above the fire, 
fed it with dry sticks of pine and fragrant 
oils. Then he began the ancient chant 
of the Yasna, and the 
voices of his companions 











8 


THE SIGN IN THE SKY 

joined in the beautiful hymn to Ahura- 
Mazda : 

We worship the Spirit Divine, all wisdom and goodness 
possessing, 

Surrounded by Holy Immortals, the givers of bounty 
and blessing, 

We joy in the works of His hands, His truth and His 
power confessing. 

We praise all the things that are pure, for these are 
His only Creation; 

The thoughts that are true, and the words and deeds 
that have won approbation; 

These are supported by Him and for these we make 
adoration. 

Hear us, O Mazda! Thou livest in truth and in 
heavenly gladness; 

Cleanse us from falsehood, and keep us from evil 
and bondage to badness; 

Pour out the light and the joy of Thy life on our 
darkness and sadness. 

Shine on our gardens and fields, Shine on our 
working and weaving; 

Shine on the whole race of man, Believing and 
unbelieving ; 

Shine on us now through the night, 

Shine on us now in Thy might, 

The flame of our holy love and the song of our worship 
receiving. 


THE SIGN IN THE SKY 


9 


The fire rose with the chant, throbbing as 
if it were made of musical flame, until it cast 
a bright illumination through the whole apart- 
ment, revealing its simplicity and splendor. 

The floor was laid with tiles of dark blue 
veined with white; pilasters of twisted silver 
stood out against the blue walls; the clear- 
story of round-arched windows above them 
was hung with azure silk; the vaulted ceiling 
was a pavement of sapphires, like the body 
of heaven in its clearness, sown with silver stars. 
From the four corners of the roof hung four 
golden magic-wheels, called the tongues of the 
gods. At the eastern end, behind the altar, 
there were two dark-red pillars of porphyry; 
above them a lintel of the same stone, on which 
was carved the figure of a winged archer, with 
his arrow set to the string and his bow drawn. 

The doorway between the pillars, which 
opened upon the terrace of the roof, was covered 
with a heavy curtain of the color of a ripe pome- 
granate, embroidered with innumerable golden 
rays shooting upward from the floor. In effect 
the room was like a quiet, starry night, all azure 
and silver, flushed in the east with rosy 


* 


10 


THE SIGN IN THE SKY 


promise of the dawn. It was, as the house 
of a man should be, an expression of the char- 
acter and spirit of the master. 

He turned to his friends when the song was 
ended, and invited them to be seated on the 

— c/ / 

divan at the western end of the room. 

“You have come to-night,” said he, looking 
around the circle, “ at my call, as the faithful 
scholars of Zoroaster, to renew your worship 
and rekindle your faith in the God of Purity, 
even as this fire has been rekindled on the altar. 
We worship not the fire, but Him of whom it 
is the chosen symbol, because it is the purest of 
all created things. It speaks to us of one who 
is Light and Truth. Is it not so, my father?” 

“It is well said, my son,” answered the 
venerable Abgarus. “ The enlightened are 
never idolaters. They lift the veil of the form 
and go into the shrine of the reality, and new 
light and truth are coming to them continually 
through the old symbols.” 

“ Hear me, then, my father and my friends,” 
said Artaban, very quietly, “while I tell you 
of the new light and truth that have come to 
me through the most ancient of all signs. We 



“Hear me, then , my father and my 
friends, while I tell you of the new 
light and truth” 








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THE SIGN IN THE SKY 


11 


have searched the secrets of nature together, 
and studied the healing virtues of water and 
fire and the plants. We have read also the 
books of prophecy in which the future is dimly 
foretold in words that are hard to understand. 
But the highest of all learning is the knowledge 
of the stars. To trace their courses is to un- 
tangle the threads of mystery of life from the 
beginning to the end. If we could follow them 
perfectly, nothing would be hidden from us. 
But is not our knowledge of them still incom- 
plete? Are there not many stars still beyond 
our horizon — lights that are known only to the 
dwellers in the far southland, among the spice- 
trees of Punt and the gold-mines of Ophir?” 

There was a murmur of assent among the 
listeners. 

“The stars,” said Tigranes, “are the 
thoughts of the Eternal. They are numberless. 
But the thoughts of man can be counted, like 
the years of his life. The wisdom of the Magi 
is the greatest of all wisdoms on earth, because 
it knows its own ignorance. And that is the 
secret of power. We keep men always looking 
and waiting for a new sunrise. But we c 



12 


THE SIGN IN THE SKY 


selves know that the darkness is equal to the 
light, and that the conflict between them will 
never be ended.” 

“ That does not satisfy me,” answered Ar- 
taban, “ for, if the waiting must be endless, if 
there could be no fulfilment of it, then it would 
not be wisdom to look and wait. We should 
become like those new teachers of the Greeks, 
who say that there is no truth, and that the 
only wise men are those who spend their lives 
in discovering and exposing the lies that have 
been believed in the world. But the new sun- 
rise will certainly dawn in the appointed time. 
Do not our own books tell us that this will come 
to pass, and that men will see the brightness 
of a great light? ” 

“That is true,” said the voice of Abgarus; 
“every faithful disciple of Zoroaster knows the 
prophecy of the Avesta and carries the word 
in his heart. ‘In that day Sosiosh the Victori- 
ous shall arise out of the number of the proph- 
ets in the east country. Around him shall shine 
a mighty brightness, and he shall make life 
everlasting, incorruptible, and immortal, and 
the dead shall rise again.’ ” 


THE SIGN IN THE SKY 


13 


“This is a dark saying,” said Tigranes, “and 
it may be that we shall never understand it. 
It is better to consider the things that are 
near at hand, and to increase the influence of 
the Magi in their own country, rather than to 
look for one who may be a stranger, and to 
whom we must resign our power.” 

The others seemed to approve these words. 
There was a silent feeling of agreement mani- 
fest among them; their looks responded with 
that indefinable expression which always fol- 
lows when a speaker has uttered the thought 
that has been slumbering in the hearts of his 
listeners. But Artaban turned to Abgarus with 
a glow on his face, and said: 

“My father, I have kept this prophecy in 
the secret place of my soul. Religion without 
a great hope would be like an altar without a 
living fire. And now the flame has burned 
more brightly, and by the light of it I have 
read other words which also have come from 
the fountain of Truth, and speak yet more 
clearly of the rising of the Victorious One in 
his brightness.” 

He drew from the breast of his tunic two 


14 


THE SIGN IN THE SKY 


small rolls of fine linen, with writing upon 
them, and unfolded them carefully upon his 
knee. 

“In the years that are lost in the past, long 
before our fathers came into the land of Baby- 
lon, there were wise men in Chaldea, from 
whom the first of. the Magi learned the secret 
of the heavens. And of these Balaam the son 
of Beor was one of the mightiest. Hear the 
words of his prophecy: 'There shall come a 
star out of Jacob, and a scepter shall arise out 
of Israel.’ ” 

The lips of Tigranes drew downward with 
contempt, as he said : 

“Judah was a captive by the waters of Baby- 
lon, and the sons of Jacob were in bondage to 
our kings. The tribes of Israel are scattered 
through the mountains like lost sheep, and 
from the remnant that dwells in Judea under 
the yoke of Rome neither star nor scepter shall 
arise.” 

“And yet,” answered Artaban, “it was the 
Hebrew Daniel, the mighty searcher of dreams, 
the counselor of kings, the wise Belteshazzar, 
who was most honored and beloved of our 



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THE SIGN IN THE SKY 


17 


great King Cyrus. A prophet of sure things 
and a reader of the thoughts of God, Daniel 
proved himself to our people. And these are 
the words that he wrote. ” (Artaban read from 
the second roll :) “ ‘Know, therefore, and under- 
stand that from the going forth of the com- 
mandment to restore Jerusalem, unto the 
Anointed One, the Prince, the time shall be 
seven and threescore and two weeks.’ ” 

“But, my son,” said Abgarus, doubtfully, 
“these are mystical numbers. Who can inter- 
pret them, or who can find the key that shall 
unlock their meaning?” 

Artaban answered: “It has been shown to 
me and to my three companions among the 
Magi — Caspar, Melchior, and Balthazar. We 
have searched the ancient tablets of Chaldea 
and computed the time. It falls in this year. 
We have studied the sky, and in the spring of 
the year we saw two of the greatest stars draw 
near together in the sign of the Fish, which is 
the house of the Hebrews. We also saw a new 
star there, which shone for one night and then 
vanished. Now again the two great planets are 
meeting. This night is their conjunction. My 


18 


THE SIGN IN THE SKY 


three brothers are watching at the ancient 
Temple of the Seven Spheres, at Borsippa, in 
Babylonia, and I am watching here. If the 
star shines again, they will wait ten days for 
me at the temple, and then we will set out to- 
gether for Jerusalem, to see and worship the 
promised one who shall be born King of Israel. 
I believe the sign will come. I have made ready 
for the journey. I have sold my house and my 
possessions, and bought these three jewels — a 
sapphire, a ruby, and a pearl — to carry them as 
tribute to the King. And I ask you to go with 
me on the pilgrimage, that we may have joy 
together in finding the Prince who is worthy to 
be served.” 

While he was speaking he thrust his hand 
into the inmost fold of his girdle and drew out 
three great gems — one blue as a fragment of 
the night sky, one redder than a ray of sunrise, 
and one as pure as the peak of a snow mountain 
at twilight — and laid them on the outspread 
linen scrolls before him. 

But his friends looked on with strange and 
alien eyes. A veil of doubt and mistrust came 
over their faces, like a fog creeping up from the 


19 


THE SIGN IN THE SKY 

marshes to hide the hills. They glanced at 
each other with looks of wonder and pity, as 
those who have listened to incredible sayings, 
the story of a wild vision, or the proposal of an 
impossible enterprise. 

At last Tigranes said: “Artaban, this is a 
vain dream. It comes from too much looking 
upon the stars and the cherishing of lofty 
thoughts. It would be wiser to spend the time 
in gathering money for the new fire-temple at 
Chala. No king will ever rise from the broken 
race of Israel, and no end will ever come to the 
eternal strife of light and darkness. He who 
looks for it is a chaser of shadows. Farewell. ,, 

And another said: “Artaban, I have no 
knowledge of these things, and my office as 
guardian of the royal treasure binds me here. 
The quest is not for me. But if thou must fol- 
low it, fare thee well. ,, 

And another said : “In my house there sleeps 
a new bride, and I cannot leave her nor take 
her with me on this strange journey. This 
quest is not for me. But may thy steps be 
prospered wherever thou goest. So farewell. ,, 

And another said: “I am ill and unfit for 


20 


THE SIGN IN THE SKY 


hardship, but there is a man among my ser- 
vants whom I will send with thee when thou 
goest, to bring me word how thou farest.” 

But Abgarus, the oldest and the one who 
loved Artaban the best, lingered after the others 
had gone, and said, gravely: “My son, it may 
be that the light of truth is in this sign that 
has appeared in the skies, and then it will surely 
lead to the Prince and the mighty brightness. 
Or it may be that it is only a shadow of the light, 
as Tigranes has said, and then he who follows it 
will have only a long pilgrimage and an empty 
search. But it is better to follow even the shad- 
ow of the best than to remain content with the 
worst. And those who would see wonderful 
things must often be ready to travel alone. I 
am too old for this journey, but my heart shall 
be a companion of the pilgrimage day and night, 
and I shall know the end of thy quest. Go in 
peace.” 

So one by one they went out of the azure 
chamber with its silver stars, and Artaban was 
left in solitude. 

He gathered up the jewels and replaced 
them in his girdle. For a long time he stood 




























































- 











































































































































' 




























» 






' 

















































THE SIGN IN THE SKY 


23 


and watched the flame that flickered and sank 
upon the altar. Then he crossed the hall, lifted 
the heavy curtain, and passed out between the 
dull red pillars of porphyry to the terrace on the 
roof. 

The shiver that thrills through the earth 
ere she rouses from her night sleep had already 
begun, and the cool wind that heralds the day- 
break was drawing downward from the lofty 
snow- traced ravines of Mount Orontes. Birds, 
half awakened, crept and chirped among the 
rustling leaves and the smell of ripened grapes 
came in brief wafts from the arbors. 

Far over the eastern plain a white mist 
stretched like a lake. But where the distant 
peak of Zagros serrated the western hori 7™ 


the sky was clear. Jupiter and Saturn rolled 
gether like drops of lambent flame about 
blend in one. 


As Artaban watched them, behold ! an a z 
spark was born out of the darkness benee 


rounding itself with purple splendors to a cr 
son sphere, and spiring upward through i 


of saffron and orange into a point of wl 


radiance. Tiny and infinitely remote, yet j 




24 


THE SIGN IN THE SKY 


feet in every part, it pulsated in the enormous 
vault as if the three jewels in the Magian’s 
breast had mingled and been transformed into 
a living heart of light. 

He bowed his head. He covered his brow 
with his hands. 

“It is the sign,” he said. “The King is com- 
ing, and I will go to meet him.” 


BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON 



BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON 


All night long Vasda, the swiftest of Arta- 
ban’s horses, had been waiting, saddled and 
bridled, in her stall, pawing the ground im- 
patiently and shaking her bit as if she shared 
the eagerness of her master’s purpose, though 
she knew not its meaning. 

Before the birds had fully roused to their 
strong, high, joyful chant of morning song, 
before the white mist had begun to lift lazily 
from the plain the other wise man was in the 
saddle, riding swiftly along the highroad, 
which skirted the base of Mount Orontes, 
westward. 

How close, how intimate is the comrade- 
ship between a man and his favorite horse 
on a long journey. It is a silent, comprehen- 
sive friendship, an intercourse beyond the need 



28 


BY THE WATERS 



and sleep under the same guardian stars. They 
are conscious together of the subduing spell 
of nightfall and the quickening joy of daybreak. 
The master shares his evening meal with his 
hungry companion, and feels the soft, moist 
lips caressing the palm of his hand as they close 
over the morsel of bread. In the gray dawn he 
is roused from his bivouac by the gentle stir 
of a warm, sweet breath over his sleeping face, 
and looks up into the eyes of his faithful fellow- 
traveler, ready and waiting for the toil of the 
day. Surely, unless he is a pagan and an un- 
believer, by whatever name he calls upon his 
God, he will thank Him for this voiceless sym- 
pathy, this dumb affection, and his morning 
prayer will embrace a double blessing — God 
us both, and keep our feet from falling 
our souls from death ! 

then, through the keen morning air, 
swift hoofs beat their spirited music along 
road, keeping time to the pulsing of two 
that are moved with the same eager 
conquer space, to devour the dis- 
to attain the goal of the journey. 

must, indeed, ride wisely and well 




OF BABYLON 


29 


if he would keep the appointed hour with the 
other Magi; for the route was a hundred and 

if 

fifty parasangs, and fifteen was the utmost 
that he could travel in a day. But he knew 
Vasda’s strength, and pushed forward without 
anxiety, making the fixed distance every day, 
though he must travel late into the night, and 
in the morning long before sunrise. 

He passed along the brown slopes of Mount 
Orontes, furrowed by the rocky courses of a 
hundred torrents. 

He crossed the level plains of the Nisaeans, 
where the famous herds of horses, feeding in 
the wide pastures, tossed their heads at Vasda’s 
approach and galloped away with a thunder of 
many hoofs, and flocks of wild birds rose sud- 
denly from the swampy meadows, wheeling in 
great circles with a shining flutter of innumer- 
able wings and shrill cries of surprise. 

He traversed the fertile fields of Concabar, 
where the dust from the threshing-floors filled 
the air with a golden mist, half hiding the huge 
Temple of Astarte with its four hundred pillars. 

At Baghistan, among the rich gardens wat- 
ered by fountains from the rock, he looked 


30 


BY THE WATERS 


up at the mountain thrusting its immense 
rugged brow out over the road, and saw the 
figure of King Darius trampling upon his fallen 
foes, and the proud list of his wars and con- 
quests graven high upon the face of the eternal 
cliff. 

Over many a cold and desolate pass, crawling 
painfully across the wind-swept shoulders of 
the hills ; down many a black mountain gorge, 
where the river roared and raced before him 
like a savage guide ; across many a smiling vale, 
with terraces of yellow limestone full of vines 
and fruit trees ; /through the oak groves of 
Carine and the dark Gates of Zagros, walled in 
by precipices; into the ancient city of Chala, 
where the people of Samaria had been kept in 
captivity long ago ; and out again by the mighty 
portal, riven through the encircling hills, where 
he saw the image of the High Priest, of the Magi 
sculptured on the wall of rock, with hand 
uplifted as if to bless the centuries of pil- 
grims; past the entrance of the narrow de- 
file, filled from end to end with orchards of 
peaches and figs, through which the river 
Gyndes foamed down to meet him; over the 


OF BABYLON 


31 


broad rice-fields, where the autumnal vapors 
spread their deathly mists; following along 
the course of the river, under tremulous 
shadows of poplar and tamarind, among the 
lower hills ; and out upon the flat plain, 
where the road ran straight as an arrow 
through the stubble - fields and parched 
meadows; past the city of Ctesiphon, where 
the Parthian emperors reigned, and the vast 
metropolis of Seleucia which Alexander built; 
across the swirling floods of Tigris and the 
many channels of Euphrates, flowing yellow 
through the corn-lands — Artaban pressed on- 
ward until he arrived, at nightfall of the tenth 
day, beneath the shattered walls of populous 
Babylon. 

Vasda was almost spent, and he would gladly 
have turned into the city to find rest and re- 
freshment for himself and for her. But he knew 
that it was three hours’ journey yet to the 
Temple of the Seven Spheres, and he must 
reach the place by midnight if he would find 
his comrades waiting. So he did not halt, but 
rode steadily across the stubble-fields. 

A grove of date-palms made an island of 


32 


BY THE WATERS 


glooms in the pale yellow sea. As she passed 
into the shadow Vasda slackened her pace, and 
began to pick her way more carefully. 

Near the farther end of the darkness an 
access of caution seemed to fall upon her. She 
scented some danger or difficulty; it was not 
in her heart to fly from it — only to be prepared 
for it, and to meet it wisely as a good horse 
should do. The grove was close and silent as 
the tomb; not a leaf rustled, not a bird sang. 

She felt her steps before her delicately, 
carrying her head low, and sighing now and 
then with apprehension. At last she gave a 
quick breath of anxiety and dismay, and stood 
stock-still, quivering in every muscle, before a 
dark object in the shadow of the last palm-tree. 

Artaban dismounted. The dim starlight 
revealed the form of a man lying across the 
road. His humble dress and the outline of his 
haggard face showed that he was probably one 
of the poor Hebrew exiles who still dwelt in 
great numbers in the vicinity. His pallid skin, 
dry and yellow as parchment, bore the mark 
of the deadly fever which ravaged the marsh- 
lands in autumn. The chill of death was in 



The dim starlight revealed 
the form of a man lying 
across the road . 































- 
































































- 




























































. 
































































































































































































/ 



























































































■ 





■ 

* 

. 

' ■ 









OF BABYLON 


33 


his lean hand, and, as Artaban released it, the 
arm fell back inertly upon the motionless 
breast. 

He turned away with a thought of pity, con- 
signing the body to that strange burial which 
the Magians deemed most fitting — the funeral 
of the desert, from which the kites and vul- 
tures rise on dark wings, and the beasts of prey 
slink furtively away, leaving only a heap of 
white bones in the sand. 

But, as he turned, a long, faint, ghostly 
sigh came from the man’s lips. The brown, 
bony fingers closed convulsively on the hem of 
the Magian’s robe and held him fast. 

Artaban’s heart leaped to his throat, not 
with fear, but with a dumb resentment at the 
importunity of this blind delay. 

How could he stay here in the darkness to 
minister to a dying stranger? What claim had 
this unknown fragment of human life upon 
his compassion or his service? If he lingered 
but for an hour he could hardly reach Borsippa 
at the appointed time. His companions would 
think he had given up the journey. They would 
go without him. He would lose his quest. 





34 BY THE WATERS 

But if he went on now, the man would surely 
die. If he stayed, life might be restored. His 
spirit throbbed and fluttered with the urgency 
of the crisis. Should he risk the great reward 
of his divine faith for the sake of a single deed 
of human love? Should he turn aside, if only 
for a moment, from the following of the star, to 
give a cup of cold water to a poor, perishing 
Hebrew ? 

“God of truth and purity, ” he prayed, 
“direct me in the holy path, the way of wisdom 
which only Thou knowest.” 

Then he turned back to the sick man. Loos- 
ening the grasp of his hand, he carried him to 


OF BABYLON 


35 


He unbound the thick folds of the turban 
and opened the garment above the sunken 
breast. He brought water from one of the small 
canals near by, and moistened the sufferer’s 
brow and mouth. He mingled a draught of one 
of those simple but potent remedies which he 
carried always in his girdle — for the Magians 
were physicians as well as astrologers — and 
poured it slowly between the colorless lips. 
Hour after hour he labored as only a skilful 
healer of disease can do; and, at last, the man’s 
strength returned; he sat up and looked about 
him. 

“ Who art thou?” he said, in the rude dialect 
of the country, “and why hast thou sought me 
here to bring back my life?” 

“I am Artaban the Magian, of the city of 
Ecbatana, and I am going to Jerusalem in 
search of one who is to be born King of the 
Jews, a great Prince and Deliverer of all men. 

I dare not delay any longer upon my journey, 
for the caravan that has waited for me may 
depart without me. But see, here is all that I 
have left of bread and wine, and here is a potion f- 
of healing herbs. When thy strength is restored 


36 


BY THE WATERS 


thou canst find the dwellings of the Hebrews 
among the houses of Babylon. ,, 

The Jew raised his trembling hand solemnly 
to heaven. 

“Now may the God of Abraham and Isaac 
and Jacob bless and prosper the journey of the 
merciful, and bring him in peace to his desired 
haven. But stay; I have nothing to give thee 
in return — only this : that I can tell thee where 
the Messiah must be sought. For our prophets 
have said that he should be born not in Jerusa- 
lem, but in Bethlehem of Judah. May the 
Lord bring thee in safety to that place, because 
thou hast had pity upon the sick.” 

It was already long past midnight. Artaban 
rode in haste, and Vasda, restored by the brief 
rest, ran eagerly through the silent plain and 
swam the channels of the river. She put forth 
the remnant of her strength, and fled over the 
ground like a gazelle. 

But the first beam of the sun sent her 
shadow before her as she entered upon the 
final stadium of the journey, and the eyes 
of Artaban, anxiously scanning the great 
mound of Nimrod and the Temple of the 





N 









OF BABYLON 39 

Seven Spheres, could discern no trace of his 
friends. 

The many-colored terraces of black and 
orange and red and yellow and green and blue 
and white, shattered by the convulsions of 
nature, and crumbling under the repeated 
blows of human violence, still glittered like 
a ruined rainbow in the morning light. 

Artaban rode swiftly around the hill. He 
dismounted and climbed to the highest terrace, 
looking out toward the west. 

The huge desolation of the marshes stretched 
away to the horizon and the border of the des- 
ert. Bitterns stood by the stagnant pools and 
jackals skulked through the low bushes; but 
there was no sign of the caravan of the wise 
men, far or near. 

At the edge of the terrace he saw a little 
cairn of broken bricks, and under them a piece 
of parchment. He caught it up and read: 
“We have waited past the midnight and can 
delay no longer. We go to find the King. Fol- 
low us across the desert.” 

Artaban sat down upon the 
covered his head in despair. 



40 


BY THE WATERS 



no food and with a spent horse? I must return 
to Babylon, sell my sapphire, and buy a train 
of camels, and provision for the journey. I 
may never overtake my friends. Only God the 
merciful knows whether I shall not lose the 
sight of the King because I tarried to show 
mercy.” 



FOR THE SAKE OF A 

LITTLE CHILD 










* 







































\ 






» 






















• * 






































\ 













t 













































FOR THE SAKE OF A LITTLE CHILD 


There was a silence in the Hall of Dreams, 
where I was listening to the story of the Other 
Wise Man. And through this silence I saw, but 
very dimly, his figure passing over the dreary 
undulations of the desert, high upon the back 
of his camel, rocking steadily onward like a 
ship over the waves. 

The land of death spread its cruel net around 
him. The stony wastes bore no fruit but briers 
and thorns. The dark ledges of rock thrust 
themselves above the surface here and there, 
like the bones of perished monsters. Arid and 
inhospitable mountain ranges rose before him, 
furrowed with dry channels of ancient torrents, 
white and ghastly as scars on the face of nature. 




44 


FOR THE SAKE OF 


the fierce heat pressed its intolerable burden on 
the quivering air ; and no living creature moved 
on the dumb, swooning earth but tiny jerboas 
scuttling through the parched bushes, or lizards 
vanishing in the clefts of the rock. By night 
the jackals prowled and barked in the distance, 
and the lion made the black ravines echo with 
his hollow roaring, while a bitter, blighting 
chill followed the fever of the day. Through 
heat and cold, the Magian moved steadily 
onward. 

Then I saw the gardens and orchards of 
Damascus, watered by the streams of Aldana 
and Pharpar, with their sloping swards inlaid 
with bloom, and their thickets of myrrh and 
roses. I saw also the long, snowy ridge of Her- 
mon, and the dark groves of cedars, and the 
valley of the Jordan, and the blue waters of 
the Lake of Galilee, and the fertile plain of 
Esdraelon and the hills of Ephraim, and the 
highlands of Judah. / Through all these I fol- 
lowed the figure of Artaban moving steadily 
onward, until he arrived at Bethlehem. And it 
was the third day after the three wise men had 
come to that place and had found Mary and 



/ 









Joseph, with the young child, Jesus, and had 
lain their gifts of gold and frankincense and 
myrrh at his feet. 

Then the other wise man drew near, weary, 
but full of hope, bearing his ruby and his pearl 
to offer to the King. “For now at last,” he 
said, “I shall surely find him, though it be 
alone, and later than my brethren. This is 
the place of which the Hebrew exile told me 
that the prophets had spoken, and here I shall 
behold the rising of the great light. But I 
must inquire about the visit of my brethren, 
and to what house the star directed them, and 
to whom they presented their tribute.” 

The streets of the village seemed to be de- 
serted, and Artaban wondered whether the 
men had all gone up to the hill-pastures to 
bring down their sheep. From the open door 
of a low stone cottage he heard the sound of a 
woman’s voice singing softly. He entered and 
found a young mother hushing her baby to 
rest. She told him of the strangers from the 
Far East who had appeared in the village 
three days ago, and how they said that a 
star had guided them to the place wh 


48 


FOR THE SAKE OF 


Joseph of Nazareth was lodging with his wife 
and her new-born child, and how they had 
paid reverence to the child and given him 
many rich gifts. 

“But the travelers disappeared again, ” she 
continued, “as suddenly as they had come. 
We were afraid at the strangeness of their 
visit. We could not understand it. The man 
of Nazareth took the babe and his mother and 
fled away that same night secretly, and it was 
whispered that they were going far away to 
Egypt. Ever since there has been a spell upon 
the village; something evil hangs over it. They 
say that the Roman soldiers are coming from 
Jerusalem to force a new tax from us, and the 
men have driven the flocks and herds far back 
among the hills, and hidden themselves to 
escape it.” 

Artaban listened to her gentle, timid speech 
and the child in her arms looked up in his face 
and smiled, stretching out its rosy hands to 
grasp at the winged circle of gold on his breast. 
His heart warmed to the touch. It seemed 
like a greeting of love and trust to one who had 
journeyed long in loneliness and perplexity, 


























A LITTLE CHILD 


51 


fighting with his own doubts and fears, and 
following a light that was veiled in clouds. 

“ Might not this child have been the prom- 
ised Prince ?” he asked within himself, as he 
touched its soft cheek. “Kings have been born 
ere now in lowlier houses than this, and the 
favorite of the stars may rise even from a cot- 
tage. But it has not seemed good to the God 
of wisdom to reward my search so soon and so 
easily. The one whom I seek has gone before 
me ; and now I must follow the King to Egypt.” 

The young mother laid the babe in its cradle, 
and rose to minister to the wants of the strange 
guest that fate had brought into her house. 
She set food before him, the plain fare of peas- 
ants, but willingly offered, and therefore full 
of refreshment for the soul as well as for the 
body. Artaban accepted it gratefully; and, as 
he ate, the child fell into a happy slumber, and 
murmured sweetly in its dreams, and a great 
peace filled the quiet room. 

But suddenly there came the noise of a wild 
confusion and uproar in the streets of the vil- 
lage, a shrieking and wailing of women’s voices, 
a clangor of swords, and a desperate cry: “Th 



52 


FOR THE SAKE OF 


soldiers ! the soldiers of Herod ! They are killing 
our children.” 

The young mother’s face grew white with 
terror. She clasped her child to her bosom, 
and crouched motionless in the darkest corner 
of the room, covering him with the folds of her 
robe, lest he should wake and cry. 

But Artaban went quickly and stood in the 
doorway of the house. His broad shoulders 
filled the portal from side to side, and the peak 
of his white cap all but touched the lintel. 

The soldiers came hurrying down the street 
with bloody hands and dripping swords. At 
the sight of the stranger in his imposing dress 
they hesitated with surprise. The captain of 
the band approached the threshold to thrust 
him aside. But Artaban did not stir. His face 
was as calm as though he were watching the 
stars, and in his eyes there burned that steady 
radiance before which even the half -tamed 
hunting-leopard shrinks and the fierce blood- 
hound pauses in his leap. He held the soldier 
silently for an instant, and then said, in a low 
voice : 

“I am all alone in this place, and I am wait- 


“7 am all alone in this place , and I am 
waiting to give this jewel to the prudent 
captain ivho will leave me in peace ” 



















































































I 








( 




























. 



















A LITTLE CHILD 


53 


ing to give this jewel to the prudent captain 
who will leave me in peace.” 

He showed the ruby, glistening in the hollow 
of his hand like a great drop of blood. 

The captain was amazed at the splendor of 
the gem. The pupils of his eyes expanded with 
desire, and the hard lines of greed wrinkled 
around his lips. He stretched out his hand and 
took the ruby. 

“March on!” he cried to his men. “There is 
no child here. The house is still.” 

The clamor and the clang of arms passed 
down the street as the headlong fury of the 
chase sweeps by the secret covert where the 
trembling deer is hidden. Artaban re-entered 
the cottage. He turned his face to the east and 
prayed : 

“God of truth, forgive my sin! I have said 
the thing that is not, to save the life of a child. 
And two of my gifts are gone. I have spent for 
man that which was meant for God. Shall 
ever be worthy to see the face of the King?” 

But the voice of the woman, weeping for 
joy in the shadow behind him, said, very 
gently : 


54 


A LITTLE CHILD 


“ Because thou hast saved the life of my little 
one, may the Lord bless thee and keep thee; 
the Lord make His face to shine upon thee and 
be gracious unto thee; the Lord lift up His 
countenance upon thee and give thee peace." 


IN THE HIDDEN WAY 

OF SORROW 























































IN THE HIDDEN WAY OF SORROW 


Then again there was a silence in the Hall 
of Dreams, deeper and more mysterious than 
the first interval, and I understood that the 
years of Artaban were flowing very swiftly under 
the stillness of that clinging fog, and I caught 
only a glimpse, here and there, of the river of 
his life shining through the shadows that 
concealed its course. 

I saw him moving among the throngs of 
men in populous Egypt, seeking everywhere 
for traces of the household that had come down 
from Bethlehem, and finding them under the 
spreading sycamore-trees of Heliopolis, and 
beneath the walls of the Roman fortress of New 
Babylon beside the Nile — traces so faint and 
dim that they vanished before him continually, 
as footprints on the hard river-sand glisten for 
a moment with moisture and then disappear. 

I saw him again at the foot of the pyramids, 


58 


IN THE HIDDEN WAY 


which lifted their sharp points into the intense 
saffron glow of the sunset sky, changeless mon- 
uments of the perishable glory and the im- 
perishable hope of man. He looked up into the 
vast countenance of the crouching Sphinx and 
vainly tried to read the meaning of the calm 
eyes and smiling mouth. Was it, indeed, the 
mockery of all effort and all aspiration, as Ti- 
granes had said — the cruel jest of a riddle that 
has no answer, a search that never can succeed ? 
Or was there a touch of pity and encourage- 
ment in that inscrutable smile — a promise that 
even the defeated should attain a victory, and 
the disappointed should discover a prize, and 
the ignorant should be made wise, and the 
blind should see, and the wandering should 
come into the haven at last? 

I saw him again in an obscure house of 
Alexandria, taking counsel with a Hebrew rabbi. 
The venerable man, bending over the rolls of 
parchment on which the prophecies of Israel 
were written, read aloud the pathetic words 
which foretold the sufferings of the promised 
Messiah — the despised and rejected of men, the 
man of sorrows and the acquaintance of grief. 





“ The King whom you are seeking 
is not to be found in a palace , nor 
among the rich and powerfid 















OF SORROW 


59 


“And remember, my son,” said he, fixing 
his deep-set eyes upon the face of Artaban, 
“the King whom you are seeking is not to be 
found in a palace, nor among the rich and 
powerful. If the light of the world and the 
glory of Israel had been appointed to come with 
the greatness of earthly splendor, it must have 
appeared long ago. For no son of Abraham will 
ever again rival the power which Joseph had in 
the palaces of Egypt, or the magnificence of 
Solomon throned between the lions in Jerusa- 
lem. But the light for which the world is wait- 
ing is a new light, the glory that shall rise out 
of patient and triumphant suffering. And the 
kingdom which is to be established forever is 
a new kingdom, the royalty of perfect and un- 
conquerable love. 

“I do not know how this shall come to pass, 
nor how the turbulent kings and peoples of earth 
shall be brought to acknowledge the Messiah 
and pay homage to Him. But this I know. 
Those who seek Him will do well to look among 
the poor and the lowly, the sorrowful and the 
oppressed.” 

So I saw the other wise man again and again, 



60 


IN THE HIDDEN WAY 


traveling from place to place, and searching 
among the people of the dispersion, with whom 
the little family from Bethlehem might, per- 
haps, have found a refuge. He passed through 
countries where famine lay heavy upon the 
land, and the poor were crying for bread. He 
made his dwelling in plague-stricken cities 
where the sick were languishing in the bitter 
companionship of helpless misery. He visited 
the oppressed and the afflicted in the gloom of 
subterranean prisons, and the crowded wretch- 
edness of slave-markets, and the weary toil of 
galley-ships. In all this populous and intricate 
world of anguish, though he found none to 
worship, he found many to help. He fed the 
hungry, and clothed the naked, and healed the 
sick, and comforted the captive; and his years 
went by more swiftly than the weaver’s shuttle, 
that flashes back and forth through the loom 
while the web grows and the invisible pattern 
is completed. 

It seemed almost as if he had forgotten his 
quest. But once I saw him for a moment as he 
stood alone at sunrise, waiting at the gate of a 
Roman prison. He had taken from a secret 



In all this 'populous and intricate world 
of anguish , though he found none to 
worship , he found many to help. 



OF SORROW 


61 


resting-place in his bosom the pearl, the last 
of his jewels. As he looked at it, a mellower 
luster, a soft and iridescent light, full of shift- 
ing gleams of azure and rose, trembled upon 
its surface. It seemed to have absorbed some 
reflection of the colors of the lost sapphire and 
ruby. So the profound, secret purpose of a 
noble life draws into itself the memories of 
past joy and past sorrow. All that has helped 
it, all that has hindered it, is transfused by a 
subtle magic into its very essence. It becomes 
more luminous and precious the longer it is 
carried close to the warmth of the beating heart. 

Then, at last, while I was thinking of this 
pearl, and of its meaning, I heard the end of 
the story of the Other Wise Man. 




































' 
































- 
















































































































A PEARL OF GREAT PRICE 

v 








\ 


A PEARL OF GREAT PRICE 

Three-and-thirty years of the life of Arta- 
ban had passed away, and he was still a pilgrim, 
and a seeker after light. His hair, once darker 
than the cliffs of Zagros, was now white as 
the wintry snow that covered them. His eyes, 
that once flashed like flames of fire, were dull 
as embers smoldering among the ashes. 

Worn and weary and ready to die, but still 
looking for the King, he had come for the last 
time to Jerusalem. He had often visited the 
holy city before, and had searched through all 
its lanes and crowded hovels and black prisons 
without finding any L ace of the family of Naz- 
arenes who had fled from Bethlehem long ago. 
But now it seemed as if he must make one more 
effort, and something whispered in his heart 
that, at last, he might succeed. 

It was the season of the Passover. The city 
was thronged with strangers. The children 



66 A PEARL OF GREAT PRICE 



of Israel, scattered in far lands all over the 
world, had returned to the Temple for the 
great feast, and there had been a confusion of 
tongues in the narrow streets for many days. 

But on this day there was a singular agita- 
tion visible in the multitude. The sky was veiled 
with a portentous gloom, and currents of ex- 
citement seemed to flash through the crowd 
like the thrill which shakes the forest on the 
eve of a storm. A secret tide was sweeping them 
all one way. The clatter of sandals, and the 
soft, thick sound of thousands of bare feet 
shuffling over the stones, flowed unceasingly 
along the street that leads to the Damascus 
gate. 

Artaban joined company with a group of 
people from his own country, Parthian Jews who 
had come up to keep the Passover, and inquired 
of them the cause of the tumult, and where 
they were going. 

“We are going,” they answered, “to the 
place called Golgotha, outside the city walls, 
where there is to be an execution. Have you not 
heard what has happened ? 
famous robbers are to 











“ Pilate has sent him to the cross 
because he said that he was the 
‘ King of the Jews . 


5 55 





A PEARL OF GREAT PRICE 67 

be crucified, and with them another, called 
Jesus of Nazareth, a man who has done 
many wonderful works among the people, so 
that they love him greatly. But the priests and 
elders have said that he must die, because he 
gave himself out to be the Sen of God. And 
Pilate has sent him to the cross because he 
said that he was the ‘King of the Jews.’ ” 

How strangely these familiar words fell upon 
the tired heart of Artaban! They had led him 
for a lifetime over land and sea. And now they 
came to him darkly and mysteriously like a 
message of despair. The King had arisen, but 
He had been denied and cast out. He was about 
to perish. Perhaps He was already dying. 
Could it be the same who had been born in 
Bethlehem thirty-three years ago, at whose 
birth the star had appeared in heaven, and of 
whose coming the prophets had spoken? 

Artaban’s heart beat unsteadily with that 
troubled, doubtful apprehension which is the 
excitement of old age. But he said within him- 
self : “The ways of God are stranger than the 
thoughts of men, and it may be that I shall 
find the King, at last, in the hands of His ene- 


68 A PEARL OF GREAT PRICE 





mies, and shall come in time to offer my pearl 
for His ransom before He dies.” 

So the old man followed the multitude with 
slow and painful steps toward the Damascus 
gate of the city. Just beyond the entrance of 
the guard-house a troop of Macedonian soldiers 
came down the street, dragging a young girl 
with torn dress and disheveled hair. As the 
Magian paused to look at her with compassion 
she broke suddenly from the hands of her tor- 
mentors and threw herself at his feet, clasping 
him around the knees. She had seen his white 
cap and the winged circle on his breast. 

“Have pity on me,” she cried, “and save me, 
for the sake of the God of Purity! I also am a 
daughter of the true religion which is taught 
by the Magi. My father was a merchant of 
Parthia, but he is dead, and I am seized for his 
debts to be sold as a slave. Save me from worse 
than death.” 

Artaban trembled. 

It was the old conflict in his soul, 
which had come to him in the palm- 
of Babylon and in the cottage at 
conflict between the ex- 


A PEARL OF GREAT PRICE 69 

pectation of faith and the impulse of love. 
Twice the gift which he had consecrated to 
the worship of religion had been drawn from 
his hand to the service of humanity. This 
was the third trial, the ultimate probation, 
the final and irrevocable choice. 

Was it his great opportunity, or his last 
temptation? He could not tell. One thing only 
was clear in the darkness of his mind — it was 
inevitable. And does not the inevitable come 
from God? 

One thing only was sure to his divided heart 
— to rescue this helpless girl would, be a true 
deed of love. And is not love the light of the soul ? 

He took the pearl from his bosom. Never 
had it seemed so luminous, so radiant, so full of 
tender, living luster. He laid it in the hand of 
the slave. 

“ This is thy ransom, daughter ! It is the last 
of my treasures which I kept for the King. ,, 

While he spoke, the darkness of the sky 
thickened, and shuddering tremors ran through 
the earth, heaving convulsively like the breast 
of one who struggles with mighty grief. 

The walls of the houses rocked to and fro. 


70 A PEARL OF GREAT PRICE 


Stones were loosened and crashed into the 
street. Dust-clouds filled the air. The soldiers 
fled in terror, reeling like drunken men. But 
Artaban and the girl whom he had ransomed 
crouched helpless beneath the wall of the 
Prsetorium. 

What had he to fear? What had he to live 
for? He had given away the last remnant of his 
tribute for the King. He had parted with the 
last hope of finding Him. The quest was over, 
and it had failed. But, even in that thought, 
accepted and embraced} there was peace. It 
was not resignation. It was not submission. ^ 
It was something more profound and searching. 
He knew that all was well, because he had done 
the best that he could, from day to day. He 
had been true to the light that had been given 
to him. He had looked for more. And if he had 
not found it, if a failure was all that came out 
of his life, doubtless that was the best that 
was possible. He had not seen the revelation 
of “life everlasting, incorruptible, and immor- 
tal.” But he knew that even if he could live 
his earthly life over again, it could not be other- 
wise than it had been. 



As she bent over him , fearing that he 
was dead , there came a voice through 
the twilight , very small and still , like 
music sounding from a distance. 












































* 





































A PEARL OF GREAT PRICE 71 

One more lingering pulsation of the earth- 
quake quivered through the ground. A heavy 
tile, shaken from the roof, fell and struck the 
old man on the temple. He lay breathless and 
pale, with his gray head resting on the young 
girl’s shoulder, and the blood trickling from 
the wound. As she bent over him, fearing that 
he was dead, there came a voice through the 
twilight, very small and still, like music sound- 
ing from a distance, in which the notes are 
clear but the words are lost. The girl turned 
to see if some one had spoken from the window 
above them, but she saw no one. 

Then the old man’s lips began to move, as 
if in answer, and she heard him say in the 
Parthian tongue : 

“Not so, my Lord: For when saw I thee an- 
hungered and fed thee? Or thirsty, and gave 
thee drink? When saw I thee a stranger, and 
took thee in? Or naked, and clothed thee? 
When saw I thee sick or in prison, and came 
unto thee? Three-and-thirty years have I 
looked for thee; but I have never seen thy face, 
nor ministered to thee, my King.” 

He ceased, and the sweet voice came again. 


72 A PEARL OF GREAT PRICE 


And again the maid heard it, very faintly and 
far away. But now it seemed as though she 
understood the words : 

“Verily I say unto thee, Inasmuch as thou 
hast done it unto one of the least of these my 
brethren, thou hast done it unto me.” 

A calm radiance of wonder and joy lighted 
the pale face of Artaban like the first ray of 
dawn on a snowy mountain-peak. One long, 
last breath of relief exhaled gently from his lips. 

His journey was ended. His treasures were 
accepted. The Other Wise Man had found the 
King. 


THE END 













































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